Mari found herself pushed forward into a dashing group of adventurers, smiling a little awkwardly back at Ithaca. One of her sisters had fashioned her leathers, and while they were finely crafted, embossed and studded and fitted comfortably to her form, with swirling and twisting decorative elements of Norgardian design, Mari felt she was certainly the least impressive of this group.

Kane and his plate armor she'd already encountered, but now she got a better look at the elven woman in her beautiful priestly robes. They were of Nestariel, the healer, or at least she thought, as the design was more exotic and archaic than other traveling priests she'd encountered before. Her gaze seemed to pierce through, but Mari paid it little mind. She was new, after all. The dwarf seemed friendly enough, Orek, and then there was Po, his hand outstretched towards her.

"That's me," she said, giving it a shake. "My name's Mari, I've come from the Sea of Swords. I'm going to be here for a little while at least, so I thought I'd look for some opportunities." Her holy symbols of Rán were displayed openly hanging from her belts for the observant.

She didn't laugh at Po's joke, only smiling a little, as she wasn't sure what the dynamic here was yet, and had no desire to turn the elven woman's disposition against her before they'd even begun. "I can pull my own weight in a fight and in the wild, if you'll have me."